Madhouse
by JustAnotherWriter98
Summary: Welcome to the Madhouse, a mental facility that aids others in recovering from their mental problems. We aim to make your troubled lives easier and let you live a normal life within our quarters. So would you like to come in? Human!AU. USUK. Other pairs.
1. Chapter 1: Welcome to the Madhouse

**Hi~! I've decided to make a chaptered fic. It's entitled Madhouse.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing.**

**WARNINGS: MADMEN. HUMAN!AU. USUK. OTHER PAIRINGS.**

**On with the story.**

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><p>Welcome.<p>

Alfred stared at the sign above the glass doors. That sign made his stomach sick. He hated at how those letters seemed to mock him, how the word they formed meant something new. He entered cautiously into the aging building.

The inside was the same as the outside, dirty and gray. Many people were there, most sitting down on the black chairs the building provided, their hands on the matching tables. Others were huddled in a corner, some crying, and some mumbling things he'd rather not hear.

Laughs greeted him, maniacal ones. He felt small and insignificant when all the people, _maniacs_, had their eyes on him. He willed himself not to run out, to get away from them. He walked to the receptionist's booth.

He lightly tapped the glass. No one answered. He looked at his watch and stared at it, and felt someone breathing down his neck. He turned his head around and immediately went pale. A tall man with blond hair stood behind him, smiling at him.

"Become one with me?" he said in a deep Russian accent, gripping something, _a metal faucet pipe with specks of blood_, tightly.

"N-No." Alfred replied, trying to control his breathing. He saw the Russian smile at him even more. He could feel something radiating from the Russian, kind of like a deadly aura.

"Are you sure? It is best if you become one with me if you do not want to end up like him." he continued on, still smiling as he pointed to a male who was shaking in a corner, who almost fainted at the mere mention of the blond man.

"Back off, Ivan! That is not the right way to treat someone else." a person said to the man, shooing him away from Alfred.

The man, _Ivan_, walked away. Alfred heard him whispering something that sounded like "kol kol kol kol". Something was definitely wrong with that guy.

Alfred turned to the person that told Ivan off. The person, _a man_, was shorter and thinner than him. He had emerald eyes and blond hair. But his most prominent facial feature was his _big _eyebrows. The man caught him staring and faced him.

"I'm sorry. Let me introduce myself. I am Arthur Kirkland. It's a pleasure to meet you, um…" the person, _Arthur_, said to him, hand extended to him.

"Jones. Alfred F. Jones. Nice to meet you too, Artie!" Alfred said. He grabbed the green eyed man's hand and shook it. Alfred smiled. _'Finally! Someone sane I can talk too!'_, he thought.

Arthur blushed a bit at the nickname, and then proceeded to smack Alfred in the arm."My name is Arthur, you git! It's A-R-T-H-U-R, not Artie!"

Alfred laughed at his reaction. He then proceeded to face the receptionist's booth. The receptionist still wasn't there. He made noises and rang the silver bell on the booth repeatedly. He continued doing this until he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asked him.

"Trying to get the receptionist to notice me." Alfred replied, curious as to why Arthur even asked him the question. Wasn't it obvious?

Arthur scratched the back of his head. "Alfred, you better stop doing that."

"Why? Is he or she on break, somethin'?" he asked, he sounded bored.

"The receptionist left years ago. No one is going to answer you." Arthur told him.

Alfred became curious. "She left? Why?"

"Somebody tried to kill her after she left him alone. The very next day, we were informed that she quit and would never come back because the crazy man also tried to kill her in her sleep. Happy?" Arthur told him, averting his eyes to the floor as if he'd told this story a million times already. He saw Alfred gulp. "Why were you even looking for her?"

"Some dude in black forced me to come here, saying that I was 'mentally unstable' or some other shit along those lines." Alfred said, scratching his head.

"Wait a minute," Arthur said, pacing left and right like he was in deep thought, "That means that you're the new patient!" he exclaimed.

"New…patient?" Alfred said, blinking his eyes in confusion.

"Yes. Welcome to the Madhouse, a mental facility that aids others in recovering from their mental problems." Arthur said, with a bit of sadness in his voice. It was like he was looking at another poor soul who was going to be sent to hell.

"The Madhouse? Mental facility? Mental problems? I d-don't have any of t-those!" Alfred said, his eyes widened in shock at the news.

Arthur looked at him. "Believe me you do. If you didn't have any, then why would you be sent here?"

Alfred was panicking, obviously horrified at the idea of staying in a mental facility. Many people were looking at him. "How the fuck would I know? Shit, that means I'm gonna to stay with maniacs! Crap!"

"Alfred…" Arthur tried to calm the boy down. He failed miserably.

Alfred was getting worse by the minute."No way am I going to stay here! I don't want to stay here, with creepy commie bastards with faucet pipes who want to become one with me! I don't even know what that means!"

Arthur was through hearing the American's screams. "Alfred!"

_SMACK_

"Would you get a hold of yourself?" Arthur yelled at Alfred. Alfred stroked the cheek that Arthur slapped. He was wincing in pain, and his cheek was a bright shade of red.

"Much better. Now, you say that you don't know why you were sent here?" Arthur sighed. Alfred nodded in response.

"I don't know why. I never felt that there was something wrong with me. Besides, heroes don't have mental problems…" Alfred said, looking at himself. He put his hands on his torso and felt himself to check if anything was wrong. He looked up all of a sudden, like he thought of something. "Hey, Arthur?"

"What is it?" Arthur said, thinking that Alfred found out why he was here.

"Why are you here? You look sane!" Alfred asked him.

Arthur sighed. "I was deemed a madman because I could see magical creatures and perform magic. According to them, 'There are no magical creatures or magic' and other bullshit like it!" he said, then an air of death surrounded him, "But don't worry I will take care of them. I will make them pay…" Arthur smiled maniacally with a laugh to match.

"_I think I know now why they put you here, Artie."_ Alfred whispered, looking at the ground. Arthur faced him.

"What was that, Alfred?" he said in a dangerous tone. The air of death around him vanished when Alfred shook his head frantically from side to side. "But I still believe that magic and Flying Mint Bunny are true!" Arthur said.

Alfred blinked. "Flying…Mint Bunny? Forget about that shit, are you going to show me around? Ya know since I'm gonna stay here?" he said.

Arthur looked annoyed. "First of all, it's YOU not YA. Second of all, it's GOING not GONNA. Geez, get it right you git!" he said, "Third, I'll show you around later. I'll show you your room first."

"Alright, you lead the way, Artie."

"I told you my name is Arthur!"

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><p><strong>Yeah that's it. To anyone that reads this and will wait for updates, updates will come late this end of March to the start of April. Don't worry though, after that, updates will come faster (unless I get writer's block).<strong>

**In the meantime, do you have any favorite characters?**


	2. Chapter 2: Meeting the Maniacs

**To those who waited for this chapter, I'm so sorry that it took this long! I just had some things to do. And the fact that I got a bit distracted kind of added to the long update.**

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except the plot.**

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><p>"This is where you are going to stay, Alfred. Make yourself comfortable." Arthur said, guiding the American into a room. He opened the door and extended his hand inside to lead Alfred in. Arthur closed the door afterwards.<p>

Alfred dropped the bags he was carrying on the bed. "Okay. Now let's go on that tour you promised me!" he said.

"What about your belongings? Aren't you going to put them away first?"Arthur said. His voice had something that made Alfred think that Arthur didn't want to show him around The Madhouse.

"Nah, that can wait later." Alfred said, "I just want to see where I would be stay for a long time, ya know?" he said. Arthur sighed.

"Fine. I have to get something from my room first." Arthur said, walking towards the door, "Then we can go. Is that okay?"

Alfred beamed. "Yep, I'll just sit here. Don't take to long though Artie!" he said.

Arthur looked behind his shoulder, face red. "I told you, my name is Arthur." he said, hand on the doorknob, "Stop with the nicknames or I'll-!" Arthur was about to finish his sentence when something shiny and _sharp _ripped through the door, right above Arthur, and became wedged in spot on the wall just centimeters from Alfred's face.

The American blinked. "What the fuck just happened?" he asked, sweat dripping down his forehead. He jumped off the bed and came towards Arthur. He saw Arthur gulp.

"I think," the British man said, opening the door, "That it's Natalia." Alfred looked confused. Arthur opened the door fully and they were immediately bombarded with "Marry me…Marry me…Marry me!". They saw a young woman chasing what appeared to be Ivan.

"Help me! Please!" Ivan yelled, "Go away! Go away, Natalia! Please go away!"

The woman, Natalia, kept chasing Ivan. "No Big Brother, I will not go away! I'm doing this for you! Now let's get married married married…" she said, a knife in one hand. They sped across the hallway.

"What's her problem?" Alfred said, still looking in the opposite end of the hallway where the duo exited.

Arthur faced Alfred. "You see, Natalia has um…. s_trong_ feelings for Ivan. She's delusional – Sometimes she thinks that _Ivan_ is in love with _her_." he said.

Alfred looked confused. "But aren't they like, siblings or somethin'?" he asked. He thought that it was quite weird.

"They are siblings. It bothers a lot of us here; all the others are scared of them." Arthur said.

Alfred's eyes trailed to the left and saw a male, a teen, cowering in fear, looking like he was ready to pass out any second. He saw Arthur looking the same way too.

"Who's he?"

Arthur sighed. "That's Raivis. He has Post - Traumatic Stress Disorder." he said. He looked at his watch, "Let's move along, shall we?"

"Okay… Arti – I mean Arthur, what's your mental disorder called?" Alfred asked him.

"Schizotypal Personality Disorder." Arthur turned his head to look at him. "They say that it is the reason why I can see my so called 'imaginary' friends. But they're real I tell you!"

Alfred tried hard not to chuckle. "Sure they are." When he saw Arthur about to retort, he quickly tried to change the subject. "What about Ivan? I know he's a commie bastard that tries to get everyone to be one with him, but what's his disorder called?" Alfred saw Arthur give him a look of irritation, probably from his earlier comment, before looking ahead.

"Ivan has Sadistic Personality Disorder. In other words, he's sadistic, a sadist. Get it?" Arthur said with irritation in his voice.

"Yeah." Alfred said. They were already out of the hallway. They entered the check in area. Nothing seemed to change. Other people were there, but they didn't really mind Alfred like earlier.

'_At least I'm not being stared at.' _Alfred thought while observing the others in the room, _'Maybe it's because Artie is with me… Is he the boss here or something?' _

"Here we have the check in area. But I suppose you already knew that, right Alfred?" Arthur said. He wasn't getting a response. "Alfred? Are you even listening to me?" he said, snapping his fingers in front of Alfred's face.

"Huh?" Alfred said, brought back to the real world, "Oh right, the check in area. Got it, Arthur."

"Next were going to the library." Arthur said.

Alfred pouted. "What? Aww come on, Artie. That place is so boring!" he said. Arthur kept on walking.

"Are you coming or not?" Arthur said, not even bothering to look behind him. He added under his breath, _"Git."_

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><p>"Man, that library was huge! I almost got lost!" Alfred said. He heard Arthur laugh a bit.<p>

"Git. The library only had a few aisles. It takes some stupidity to get lost in it."

Alfred pouted. "You call twenty-five aisles few? I haven't seen that many books!" he replied.

"Fine. But I have to admit, it was funny that we found each other again in the Romance section." Arthur laughed, "And I was holding 'The Gentleman's Guide to Getting an Idiot to Love Him'."

"Yeah." Alfred chuckled, "But the library was tiny compared to the garden. I mean everywhere I look it's just green. Trees, flowers, vegetables, fruits… That garden has everything!"

Arthur glanced at the male. "Well it was made to calm down the people here. Naturally it would have a lot of vegetation. Green calms and relaxes the mind." he said.

"I did freak out though when that Elizabeta chick almost hit us with her frying pan." Alfred said, remembering the shining metal.

"It was Gilbert's fault." Arthur said, "And I remember that you let a out a _manly _scream." He said, chuckling at the memory.

"Shut up, Artie." Alfred said acting not amused, but laughing a bit. "What's their personality disorder again?"

"Elizabeta had Gender Identity Disorder while Gilbert has a mix of Megalomania and Narcissistic Personality Disorder." Arthur told him. He let Alfred's use of the nickname slide.

Alfred tilted his head to the left. "What do you mean 'had'?" he asked.

Arthur looked back at him. "I beg your pardon?" he asked the confused American, not quite catching what he said.

"About Elizabeta. What do you mean she 'had' Gender Identity Disorder? Doesn't that mean she's cured?" Alfred asked Arthur.

"Well, yes she is cured of that disorder," Arthur stated, "But the people in charge kept her here because they thought she was too violent."

"All right, I get it." Alfred said. They walked silently towards the inside of the building known as The Madhouse. They stopped when they heard a low growl from Alfred's stomach. Alfred smiled and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Artie, do you think we can go to the cafeteria next? I'm starving!" he said.

"I am feeling a bit hungry myself." Arthur said, looking down at his stomach. "Come on, the cafeteria is this way." he said, leading the way inside the building.

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><p>"That's some good stuff!" Alfred said, munching on his burger. "It's almost as good as McDonald's!"<p>

Arthur scoffed. "You actually like the food there?" Seeing Alfred nod, he added, "That place has some of the worst food on Earth. I prefer my cooking."

"Dude! Hating on McDonald's is not cool!" Alfred said, pouting.

"Fine. I was merely stating my opinion." Arthur said, trying to finish eating his fish and chips.

They ate in silence after that. Alfred admired the cafeteria. It had some nice tables and chairs and the service was good. It had a wide selection of food from around the world, probably because most of the people here are from the different places of the world. From what Arthur told him, he has already met a Russian, a Belarusian, a Latvian, a Hungarian, and a German, or what he learned from Arthur, a Prussian. He thought about what other nationalities were here. This thought made him even more excited to meet the others in the building.

"So when do you want to meet the others?"

It took a few seconds for Alfred to process what the Brit said. "Anytime is good," Alfred said, glancing at his watch. The time was 12:20 PM. "Maybe after one o clock?"

"Sure."

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><p><strong>That is it. Thank you for reading. What do you think of it so far?<strong>


	3. Chap 3:More Doesn't Exactly Mean Merrier

**I'm sorry for the wait. I read the comments, and Japanese Sinister got a few of the disorders right. Some other pairings are going to be in the next chapters. I won't say which though. I apologize for any grammatical error as English is not my first language, rather my second one. I know a lot though. I also apologize if any of the characters are OOC.**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia, A Thousand Years, and any other thing here that belongs to someone else are not mine. They belong to their respective owners.**

**This is not a songfic. Only one part of the song is here, only one sentence. But now that I think of it, my other story, That Same Field, is kind of like a songfic for it, only without lyrics.**

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><p>"Hmm…"<p>

Arthur walked into the garden and searched for a place to sit down. There weren't a lot of people but he wanted to find a nice, shaded area to relax. He finally found one under a huge oak tree and sat down, not noticing the two people on the bench on the other side of the tree.

He flipped his book open. "Confessions of a Murderer". He sighed as he saw the "hero" on the page he was reading. A loud laugh quickly played in his head, the laugh belonging to a certain American. He glanced at his watch. 12:25 PM, thirty-five minutes before he was supposed to meet Alfred at the fountain in the garden's maze.

He continued to read his book, or at least, _tried _to. Something was bothering him and tried to interfere with his reading. He turned and saw a familiar flying green animal perched on the arm of the bench.

"Mint!" Arthur said, "It's so nice to see you again." He added, cuddling the creature.

"I thought that you looked lonely so I visited you." the flying bunny, Mint, said, her voice filled with happiness.

Arthur smiled. Flying Mint Bunny was so nice. He let go of her and put his book down.

Meanwhile, a black haired man watched him. He carefully tried to stand up, trying to not wake his sleeping friend.

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><p>It felt nice to be here.<p>

Alfred had made his way into the maze and plopped down on one of the benches. He admired the fountain in front of him, looking at its glistening water. The hedges surrounding him were beautiful as well. He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard someone talking.

"…worry about it Ludwig. I'm here!"

Alfred turned his head to look at the bench on the opposite side of the fountain. He saw two men sitting in the bench, the shorter of the two hugging the other, much taller one. He quickly looked away when he saw them staring at him.

"Feliciano, can you stop? Someone else is here…" the tall man, who Alfred assumed was Ludwig, said to the other male, Feliciano.

Feliciano let go and smiled. "Ve~ Hello there stranger!" he said to Alfred.

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><p>"Konichiwa, Arthur-san."<p>

Arthur whipped his head towards the direction of the voice and saw a short male. "Kiku? What are you doing here?" Arthur said; he was completely unaware that Kiku had been there the entire time.

"I saw that you were sitting alone and talkingto um… er… your _friend_," Kiku said, "So I decided to see if you wanted some company."

"I'm fine, Kiku. Are you alone too?"

The Japanese man shook his head. "I am here with Heracles-kun."

"Heracles you say? Is he asleep again?" Arthur asked, frowning a bit when he realized that Flying Mint Bunny was gone.

"Hai. His Narcolepsy is really serious." Kiku said, "Putting that aside, how is the newcomer, Alfred-san? Is he fine?"

Arthur was surprised. Kiku and Alfred haven't met yet. So how did Kiku even know about him?

Arthur decided to forget about it and answer Kiku. "Alfred is fine. He seems to get along with everyone," he said, then he remembered a certain Russian, "Er… _almost_ everyone." he said, "How did you find out about him though, Kiku? Have you met?" Arthur added with a curious tone.

Kiku's eyes widened. His eyes darted frantically, trying to find something he could use as a diversion.

'_It seems that I had given away some clues to my stalkerish tendencies. Elizabeta-san owes me a lot of pictures!'_

Kiku looked at Arthur, who was waiting for an answer. Suddenly, an idea flashed into his head.

"I heard about him from Ivan-san."

Arthur was taken aback. Clearly something was wrong. 'Since when did Kiku and _Ivan_ get along?' he thought. "Really? Back to the topic, you seem to have taken interest in Alfred." he said, trying to sound calm.

Kiku shook his head. He was really in it for the pictures. "No, Arthur-san. It gets a little boring here sometimes so when I heard that there was a newcomer, I tried to find out a few things about him." Kiku said; making up the little excuses he might have to say to Arthur. _'Arthur-san, would you please change the topic already? I am not going to last long if this conversation keeps on going!'_

Arthur sighed. "So you weren't spying on him or something?"

"N-No!" Kiku said. '_I was spying on both of you.'_

'_Good.' _Arthur thought, pretending there was a chibi him in his head grinning. _'Wait a minute…'_

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

'_Why did I just think that?'_

Arthur flushed many shades of red at the thought. Kiku looked at him worriedly.

"A-Arthur-san! It is not time for those kinds of thoughts!"

Arthur was brought back to the real world. He realized what the Japanese man had said and blushed harder. "I wasn't thinking of anything inappropriate!"

They stayed there in silence, with Arthur sitting on the bench and Kiku standing beside him. Arthur quickly looked at his watch and stood up when he saw the time. 12:45 PM.

"I'm sorry for any trouble that had come to you Kiku." Arthur said, grabbing his book, "I must get going now. It's almost time for me to meet up with Alfred."

"It's okay Arthur-san." Kiku said, smiling despite the earlier events, "I have to go back to Heracles-kun as well. He might wake up and wonder why I am missing. Sayonara."

Arthur nodded before walking away from the area and going towards the maze.

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><p>"Man, I'm so bored!"<p>

Alfred had chat with Ludwig and Feliciano, learning that Ludwig has amnesia and that Feliciano was helping him to remember his past. They were nice, but Ludwig scared the living shit out of him when he yelled for the Italian to stop hugging him. He was blushing though, which made Feliciano hug him tighter. They had left, and it was 12:35 when they did. Twenty five minutes before he would meet up with Arthur.

He got up and sat next to the fountain and plugged in his earphones. He turned his phone on and browsed through the music. He couldn't find anything he liked and picked a random song. Bending his knees in front of him, he waited for the song to start. He hugged his knees and buried his head in them.

_Heartbeats fast, colors and promises…How to be brave, how can I love when I'm afraid to fall…?_

Alfred frowned upon hearing that song. It brought memories, and with it tears. He wasn't exactly crying but tears were forming. He closed his eyes and remembered. His past and how he was alone, it haunted him. He wished that those memories remained buried in the depths of his mind. Ever since that incident long ago, he felt afraid and lost, he felt like a lamb without a shepherd. He had friends but nothing could replace those dear to him.

"Mattie… I miss you bro. Why'd you leave me and Ma back then, huh brother? To think you actually promised me that no matter what happened, you'd always be by my side…What brother you have become…" he whispered, being dragged further into sleep.

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><p>Fuck.<p>

Arthur cursed quietly, seeing that he was, again, faced with a dead end. He never really liked mazes, and this was one of his many reasons. What made things more embarrassing was that in his tour with Alfred, they went in this maze and got out in five minutes. He retraced his steps and tried another route. A minute later, he found the right path and got out. He looked around for Alfred and found him sleeping against the side of the fountain.

'_Stupid git. He fell asleep while waiting.' _Arthur thought, _'He let himself sleep in a place filled with maniacs. How foolish to think that he was safe around these kinds of people while he looks so… _vulnerable_ – What are you thinking Arthur? Snap out of it!'_. Arthur mentally slapped himself for thinking such things.

"Well it doesn't seem like he'd wake up on his own anytime soon, so I'll just wake him up." he said, kneeling down next to the sleeping American, "Hey Alfred, wake up. Alfred… Alfred… Wake up."

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><p>Alfred opened his eyes and closed them again. He struggled against the cuffs on his wrists and ankles for the tenth time already, losing some of his energy in the process. Cold beads of sweat formed on his forehead, the back of his neck, and his palms. He opened his eyes and tried struggling again when he heard a maniacal laugh. He stopped when he saw a bloody hand making its way to his cheek. He squirmed when he felt the cold touch. He turned away.<p>

"Give it up already, Alfred," a dark voice said, grabbing Alfred's chin and forcing him to look straight, "I'm in control."

* * *

><p>Arthur almost jumped when Alfred's head shot up. The American was sweating all over, and his eyes were wide with fear. He was breathing heavily.<p>

"Git! Don't scare me like that!"

Alfred turned to his right. He screamed and inched away from Arthur. He looked like he was going to have a heart attack. "Are you trying to kill me Arthur? Normal people don't kneel next to a sleeping person!" he shouted, gripping his chest, "What the fuck were you doing anyway?"

Arthur crossed his arms. "I wanted to wake you up since you asked me to give you a tour. It's impolite to make a person wait." Arthur noticed the look of fear in Alfred's eyes, "And why on earth did you suddenly decide to wake up like that? Alfred? Are you listening to me?" the Brit received no answer. Arthur moved closer to Alfred and saw the dried tears and shaking hands. "Alfred…? What happened to you…?"

Alfred faced Arthur and gave him a big grin. "Nothing, Arthur. I'm fine! See? Now let's go and continue the tour!" Alfred said, reverting back to his normal self. The Englishman saw through Alfred's blatant lies.

Alfred stood up and yanked the shorter man's arm. He pulled Arthur up and began to run toward the entrance of the maze. He felt a light tug and pouted when he saw that his "tour guide" stood still. "Artie, come on! Don't be a party pooper!"

Arthur tried to stifle a light laugh. "Git, the people that you are going to meet next are on the other side of the maze. We came from the south, now we're going north."

"Then come on, let's go!"

'_Alfred, if you knew who the next_ _people you are going to encounter, you'd regret going now.'_

* * *

><p>"Nice meeting you too, Mr. Alfred!<p>

"Remember Alfred, a little pink in your wardrobe will, like, do wonders for your popularity!"

"Okay… I guess? See ya later, Toris and Feliks!" Alfred said, waving behind him.

"Come on Toris, Let's watch TV now. Maybe I can dress you up afterwards!" The two heard Feliks say behind them.

"They seem nice eh, Artie? I still can't believe that Toris has Anxiety problems and paranoia! I can believe that Feliks has Gender Identity Disorder though. "

"They are nice. Toris is so polite."

"Seriously dude?" Alfred said, "So are we there yet?"

Arthur seemed to shudder a bit. "Unfortunately, yes." Alfred looked curious. Arthur scowled at the door in front of him. "Alfred, you remember Gilbert, right?" he saw the American nod. "This is his room." Arthur reached up to knock, but before he could, the door swung open and revealed an albino male.

"Kesese~ What brings you to the awesome me, eh eyebrows?" Gilbert said, swinging an arm around Arthur's shoulder. The two blonds noticed an empty can of beer in the albino's free hand. "I see you're with the new guy. What was his name again? Albert…?"

Arthur pushed away Gilbert's arm. _'Fuck, his arm is heavy! I think my body would have collapsed if I didn't shove his arm.' _Arthur looked at Alfred.

"The name's Alfred."

"Alfred eh? Then be grateful Alfred, because you have met the King of Awesome face to face! Kesesese~" the self proclaimed king said, then proceeded to point to the bird on his head, "This is my right hand man, Gilbird!"

"Awesome!" Alfred exclaimed, "Hey, what the fuck was that for?" he said when Arthur pulled his ear.

Arthur's hand returned to his side. "We've got other people to meet. Now let's go." Alfred pouted.

"Fine."

Meanwhile, Gilbert had retreated back inside his room.

"Hey Arthur, I thought you said that Gilbert has a mix of Megalomania?"

A loud laugh came from Gilbert's room. "All your vital regions are belong to us! Kesesese~"

"Nevermind." Alfred said to Arthur.

They continued walking until they reached another door. They were almost hesitant to knock when they heard a loud string of profanities followed by a scream and the sound of a shattering object. The door opened and the two men got a brief glance of a brunet giving the person behind the door the middle finger.

"Hola! Please don't mind Lovi, he's just in one of his moods today." The man who opened the door said. A "Fuck you!" was heard from inside the room. "What brings you here- What are you doing here eyebrows? Here to brag about that Battleship game again?" The man had a hostile tone in his voice as his eyes drifted over to Arthur.

"I'm showing Alfred around. Is that a problem?" Arthur said. The man looked curious.

Alfred smiled. "I'm Alfred."

"My name is Antonio, nice to meet you." Antonio said, the earlier hostility in his voice disappearing, "Are you a new? I haven't seen you before. You also seem to be younger than most of us here."

"Yep, I'm a new guy. I am pretty young, nineteen years old."

Antonio smiled. "I really wished we had some younger, cute patients or visitors. Kids are so cute. I love children _a lot_." he glanced at Arthur. "They're probably scared of the mean, cold Brit over there. Boss Antonio will protect them from him~."

"Tomato bastard! Where the fuck is the bathroom?" Antonio's friend, introduced as Lovi, yelled from inside. "Hurry up, dammit, I can't hold it anymore!"

Antonio turned the doorknob. "I better go now. Adios!" Antonio said, getting inside and closing the door. "Coming Lovi~."

"That guy was weird. Is he a pedo or somethin'? And what was that about Battleship? And who the fuck was the guy swearing inside his room? You know, Lovi?" Alfred said, not noticing the pissed expression on Arthur's face.

"Antonio is a pedophile. He has a severe case of it, though that side of him only comes out rarely, and what you saw was just a mild version of it. And the thing about Battleship, I am a winner. He is just jealous and a sore loser." Arthur said, his angry expression fading away. Alfred could've sworn he saw a proud glint in the Brit's eye for half a second. Arthur's expression went back to normal. "The tomato loving idiot already told you about Lovino. Lovino is one of the two people in this mental facility that have Separation Anxiety Disorder. He also has hints of being paranoid." The two started walking.

"Who is the other one?"

"His brother, Feliciano –."

Alfred froze on the spot. If he had been drinking something, he might have done a spit take. "You mean to tell me that the sweet, kind Italian I met earlier wasn't a visitor?"

"Hard to believe, right?" Arthur said, tugging at Alfred's sleeve, "He was also one of the people involved with the receptionist incident." He saw Alfred become petrified with the information. "It's nothing to worry about. Let's go before I change my mind about going with you to the next patient."

"Hm…?"

"You'll see." They reached the next door. "Be cautious. One wrong move and you might be swiped of your virginity."

"Virginity?" Arthur knocked on the door. No one answered.

"Hon hon hon~ My my my, what do we have here rosbif?" The two looked around for the source of the voice.

"What the bloody-?" Arthur said, trying to pry off what he saw was a naked man, save for the rose that covered his crotch. "Get away from me you damn, exhibitionist frog!" Alfred blinked for a few seconds before helping Arthur remove the man's grip around Arthur. "Get off, Francis!"

"Don't worry Artie; the hero is here to save you!" Alfred said, grabbing one of Francis' arms and pulling it away.

"Who is this boy you have there Arthur?" Francis said, Alfred noting his French accent. "You naughty little Brit~." Francis did not notice the American behind him. He fell to the ground.

The weight that had been lifted off of Arthur's body caused him to loose balance, unfortunately dragging Alfred down with him.

'_Ow… My head hurts. Is there something on me?' _Arthur opened his eyes and regretted doing so, as his face could now rival a tomato in color. Blue met green, Arthur's eyes trying to look at something else.

Alfred's face was mere centimeters away from Arthur's, the so called hero's face dusted with a light pink. His glasses were askew, and his cowlick was messy, just like the rest of his hair. He got up. Arthur did as well a few seconds afterwards. They looked at each other.

Arthur pretended to dust of imaginary dirt off of his clothes. "Let's n-never speak of this again."

"A-Agreed." Alfred said, fixing his glasses.

They left the scene in silence, completely forgetting about the unconscious Frenchman on the floor.

* * *

><p>Alfred lay in his bed, ready to sleep. He thought about the day's events, about the new people he met, his experiences, and more importantly his nightmare. He shrugged it off and went to sleep.<p>

The American tossed and turned in his bed. He sat up and grabbed a pillow. "What the fuck, brain? Why the fuck do you keep reminding me of that incident with Arthur?" Alfred threw the white pillow off of his bed and into the wall, in hopes of getting his brain to forget about the crazy day that had happened.

* * *

><p><strong>Constructive criticism and suggestions are welcome! The next chapter will focus more on their lives. Keep in mind that the story won't focus on Alfred alone. Some chapters will be fillers about a character's experiences. I again apologize for any OOC characters and grammatical errors.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4: Discoveries

Morning was the time when most people turned their heads towards their bedside windows and greeted the chirping birds. They'd stretch, get up from that soft haven they called their bed, and then sit down to a hearty meal of eggs, toast, bacon, and coffee. It would be the best time of the day. Unfortunately, this was not the case for a certain Alfred F. Jones.

For the tenth time that morning, Alfred had been tempted to smash his alarm clock into the nightstand. He sat up on his bed, whining at the small creak his bed made. The crick in his neck annoyed him further, and the slight headache he woke up to contributed to his unusual grumpy demeanour.

He got off of his bed with a yawn. He stretched his arms as high as he can, which resulted in a slightly pained shoulder, which he had gotten mostly from his bad choice of sleeping position. He took a quick glance at his bed, as if he felt like there was something he had forgotten.

Another ring echoed in the room. He had forgotten the one thing he had repeatedly tried to destroy.

"Flipping alarm clock," Alfred said in a menacing tone, "Fuck you for waking me."

Deciding that it was too late to blame it on an inanimate object, _like a sane person would_, he knelt down on the floor and scavenged his duffel bag for something to wear. He ended up pulling out a loose pair of jeans, red chucks, and a Batman shirt. He got up from his position and checked to see if the door was locked before he stripped and changed his clothes.

But then again, why would he leave his door open in a building filled with maniacs?

"That was, like totally cool!" Feliks said, "Like, you should have seen the movie, it totally better than the book.

Arthur was quite frankly ready to punch the lights out of someone in the near vicinity. It was far too noisy here, too many people to concentrate. He sighed in slight happiness when the line moved forward, only a few more minutes and he would be free from the throng of people trying to get their breakfast, but he knew that this bliss was for only a moment. He frowned when a certain American barged through the door.

"Fuck it." The boisterous American cursed loudly, immediately catching the attention of everyone in the room. Seeing as it was nothing special most looked away and carried on with their business. Arthur simply closed his eyes; it was going to be a long day, and he knew it. He slowly walked as the line moved forward, watching the newcomer get his own tray and fall in line.

A few minutes passed in the bland, sickly cheery yellow room. Arthur was next in line for his meal, and Alfred was a little ways back, still grumbling.

_He really must be in a bad mood._

The holler of the caterer made him stop in his staring. His face was dusted with a light pink at the word.

_Me, staring? _

Arthur laughed inwardly. He couldn't be, can't he? He told the lady serving him his choice, oatmeal with pieces of strawberries and kiwi.

The food choices stared back at him. Out of the three, he chose the second. He had scones yesterday, and he wouldn't dare touch French cuisine, so croissants were out of the question.

He took his bowl from the redhead behind the counter, and he was glad to get away from that wide, but forced, smile, and those eyes that flowed in a sea of sadness.

He glanced around the room for a seat. Most were occupied, and unfortunately, with this mood of his, he wanted to be away from the crowds. He only wanted some alone time with his _"imaginary"_ friends of his, as others kept calling them. A part of his illness.

_But they are real. You're just not pure enough!_

He'd told that ever since he could talk. No one believed him.

When he finally found a seat, he was drowning in his thoughts. It choked him; It hurt him now that they were out of the cage he'd made for them. His head hurt badly, and all he wanted now was to eat and forget everything.

He walked to the farthest chair, right next to the right corner. He stared back to the line, like he forgot something, like there was something there _that just wouldn't go away._ He saw Alfred nearing the end of the line.

Arthur sat down at his seat. He laughed; this place he sat in was meant to seat 14 people at maximum, yet here he was alone in that big table. Just as he was about to take his first bite, he saw Alfred nearing his table right at the corner of his eye. His eyes widened; this was exactly what he didn't want right now.

_Bollocks! I don't want to deal with anyone right now, especially you!_

As much as he wanted to scream his thoughts out, he didn't. A sudden outburst like that would only draw attention to him, and would only aggravate him more. So Alfred wasn't stopped from coming closer.

_Don't notice him. He'll go away if you do. It always works with others, and should work on him too, right?_

He took another bite as he saw the newcomer come closer, and then finally plopping down in the seat across his place. He furrowed his eyebrows in disappointment; why couldn't he read the atmosphere. Then he remembered.

_He doesn't know how. Stupid Arthur!_

"Hey Artie."

Alfred munched on a piece of strawberry as he spoke. His eyes looked different this morning; the sapphire hue was replaced with a dark sea in the midst of a powerful storm. It was notably different from his blank, expressionless face. The orbs were cluttered with nothing but thoughts, at least by the Englishman's observations. Arthur stared back at his food.

_Well, I guess I should tolerate him for now. Maybe he'll go away after he's finished with his meal._

When he looked up, he saw Alfred staring point blank into his eyes. Arthur blushed deeply; thoughts of yesterday's incident crept slowly back into his mind.

_Stop staring at me you twat!_

He continued eating, but Alfred wouldn't stop in his gaze. He fidgeted with his fingers under the table, willing the rush of blood from his face to die down. His breathing hitched whenever he looked up to meet the American's eyes, finding them fixed into his own emerald ones.

_Maybe he wants to talk?_

"Hello, Alfred." Arthur said, harnessing every bit of his willpower not to croak, "Nice weather we're having today." Arthur gulped, and his conscious patted him on the back. He sighed quietly in relief when he saw Alfred look outside the door right next to the table. He was relieved, now that Alfred wasn't staring at him.

_A much longer gaze than yesterday's. How'd I survive this one?_

Alfred studied the same cafeteria that Arthur had seen for years on end. The hardwood floors at least took the eyes away from the horrible paint job of the large room. He took note of the capacity of the room; it was large enough to hold fifty people. Wide bay windows adorned almost every inch of the walls, which gave the cafeteria enough light to not use many bulbs and lamps, which Alfred saw high above them, were only two ceiling lights. Right at the end of the huge room, was a door made almost out of glass, save for the dark wood that held the panes together, all in beautiful, intricate design.

The sun shone down from the window next to their table; nice weather indeed, Alfred thought.

"Beautiful." he said, startling Arthur. Alfred ate another spoonful of his meal, and then brushed his left hand lightly against Arthur's. "Let's go outside, into the garden, after we eat, shall we?"

Arthur, cheeks still tinted a dark pink, was baffled.

"Why so red, Kirkland?"

Thanking the sun for an excuse for his red face, he replied. Alfred chuckled lightly.

"Come on, are we going outside?"

Arthur sneaked a glance at the American's eyes. They were still an icy blue, but were definitely softer than before.

_What's wrong with this guy?! Why did he pick me as his target today?_

Meanwhile, Alfred was looking impatient. He drummed his fingers on the table, almost forgetting his food. He hummed silently, but it was loud enough that Arthur could hear it.

_I don't want to wait and see how he becomes angry; it's best if I accept his offer._

The Englishman nodded slowly; he wasn't really up for joining the American. Alfred smiled; Arthur noted that it wasn't one of those million-dollar grins that the American gave him yesterday – this one was far from it.

Arthur ate his meal, and he assumed that Alfred did too, because they ate in silence.

And it was choking Arthur.

It seemed like the whole room fell silent. He could see the others smiling, laughing, talking – but he couldn't hear it. There was this aura that surrounded everyone, and it wasn't like the aura Ivan usually gave off when he was angry, or amused. It felt thick, but no one seemed to notice.

Only Arthur did.

Just when he thought it was unbearable, a loud laugh of happiness echoed through the room. Everyone looked up. Each of the groups stopped eating their meal; they stopped drinking, talking, laughing – everyone looked.

Right in the entrance stood a face familiar to Arthur and Alfred. He laughed, hugging the red plush toy in his grasp. Antonio smiled, and went towards a group of people eating, his tomato toy in hand. Judging from the loud string of curses in a foreign language much like Italian, the pair assumed that he had gone towards Lovino.

"What was that?"

Arthur turned his gaze towards Alfred again. This was a regular occurrence to him, but Alfred was a newcomer. "Antonio's been treated again." Arthur said, then his eyes widened. "Are you the one who's going to get therapy five weeks from now?"

Alfred blinked. "What?"

"No one was scheduled for a session five weeks from now." Arthur said, "So I assumed it was you who was next."

The American pounded his fist against the table, almost sending their two bowls flying. All eyes were on them, but he didn't care, he was angry. "That… _bastard." _he said through clenched teeth. Arthur panicked in his head, this was what he was trying to avoid. "He told me I was only going to fucking stay here for a fucking while – only a fucking week. That fucking shithead is going to die once I see him again."

Arthur didn't know how to react to Alfred's sudden change in behaviour. Who was this man Alfred was talking about? Was it the man in black that dragged him here? "Alfred, are you talking about the men that brought you here with no explanation?"

Alfred's head darted upward. "No." he said, "No black clothed men brought me here."

Arthur was shocked. "You lied!" he said, more confused than he was a minute ago.

Alfred sighed, he had lied. He needed to do some explaining. "Uh… Artie?"

Arthur seemed to become more upset at the nickname. "What?!" he blurted out. "If you want to explain, do so now!"

Alfred shook his head slightly. It was going to be a long day.

"So it all started when I went drinking with a few buddies…"

Hey, readers! *crawls under a rock* I'm so sorry! I had a hard time writing this because I wanted to speed things up, but I knew that it would be too fast then. And I saw some major plot holes in this, especially those concerning Alfred's coming to the mental facility. So I tried to write this chapter to answer that _without_ rewriting _every single chapter_ I've written for this, even if it's only three.

Another reason is lack of an Internet connection and a trip to relatives out of my province.

Don't worry; I updated this with two chapters.

With apologies,

JustAnotherWriter


	5. Chapter 5: A Reason

Alfred laughed loudly and took another swig of beer. His friends chanted loudly, "Chug, Chug, Chug!" He could hear the cheers around him.

"You can do it!"

"Come on, show them who's the boss!"

"You better win against that fatty, I bet a lot on you!"

"Another round of drinks!"

"How long can he go?"

"_I got into a drinking game," Alfred said. "I know I was, and still, underage, but life back then was so… _great._"_

He was getting a bit woozy now, but he continued to drink. He downed his mug quick as a flash. A brunet patted him on his back. "How about some vodka?" he said.

Alfred frowned; he swore to himself that he wouldn't touch anything "commie", he knew that the Russian communists would win if he did. "No fucking way, Tim. Commie bastards!

"_I hated Russians, I still do actually," Alfred said, "They're communists!"_

_Arthur sighed and shook his head. "They're not communist anymore."_

"Al, the Russians were free from communism for a long time now." he said, "Time for a shot of vodka!"

Alfred pouted, "But I don't wanna!" Great, he was acting like a child now.

"_I told him I didn't want to, but he convinced me otherwise." The American said._

"_How did they?" Arthur asked._

_Alfred sighed, "You'll see."_

Tim ran his hand through his hair, Alfred was being difficult, and the brunet didn't like it. "Come on, one drink?" he said, "Besides, you'll win with this." Alfred perked up, he wanted to win. "And think about the money you'll win. And the hot foreign babes that would let you get in their pants after you win."

"_Cash and women?"_

"_Shut up, Arthur."_

Alfred smiled, "Money… I want… I want money!"

"Don't forget the hot foreign babes!"

Alfred shook his head, "I don't care about the chicks." he said, "Besides I know you're after them, Timmy boy. You can have them."

Tim looked ecstatic. He went over to the counter and got Alfred a shot of vodka. "That's a sweet one, 'cause I know you wouldn't drink pure Russian water."

"You know me so well, I'm gonna cry!"

"It's better if you don't."

Alfred drank the clear liquid. His eyes widened. "Shit, Tim!" he said, sliding the glass over to his friend, "This stuff actually tastes good! Get me another shot, will you?"

Tim grinned, and happily obliged. He poured another shot to the half-drunk boy.

"Thank you, Tim!" Alfred said, "I lo~ve you, Timmy dear!"

"I'll give you more if you shut the fuck up and stop acting like the drunken idiot you are."

"Yes, sir, Tim, sir!"

As the night went on, one shot became a cup, and a cup became a glass. Alfred was a complete mess after his third bottle of vodka.

"I got to admit, Alfred," Tim said, arm around a blonde woman scantily clad in a tight, ripped, red dress that reached mid-thigh. "For a newbie, you're pretty good. I mailed your share of the prize money via my other friend. And now, if you will excuse me," he said, his hand venturing lower, "My friend Dick and I have an appointment with this mesmerising woman and the tiger she says is waiting for me."

Alfred, on the verge of consciousness, stood up. "Ya~! O~kay Timmy! I'll just finish one more shot!" He grabbed another bottle of vodka. Tim grabbed his hand and took the bottle of liquid away from him.

"No, Alfred," he said, "No more drinks for you. Now get your ass out of here before the cops find us." Alfred faced him.

Then he growled, an animalistic sound coming from his throat. "But I want _more._" He said, "I want more, Tim!"

And the last thing Alfred heard was Tim's shouts and the woman's cry.

The next morning, Alfred woke up to the bright morning. Alfred quickly shut his eyes; the light was blinding him. He tried to stand up, but bumped his head. Then he fell to the ground when the thing he was standing on swerved to the right.

"Oi, kid! Sit down; are you trying to get us killed?"

Alfred realized, he was in a vehicle – a taxi. He sat down, just before the driver screeched to a halt at a stoplight. "Hey, why am I here?" The driver grunted and threw a piece of paper towards the American's direction. Alfred winced at the headache he had; he felt like he was going to die.

"Right," he said, "I forgot. You were drunk as fuck, and I'm figuring you're having one hell of a hangover. At least that's what your friend said. Nice guy, giving me a hundred and a pack of smokes just to drive you." He grabbed a cigarette from a leather case in the passenger's compartment. He lit it and stuck it in his mouth. He blew a puff and smiled, "He said that everything you need to know is in that there note. Small handwriting, neat too; you outta read it."

Alfred coughed at the smoke. "You mean this piece of paper?" The driver nodded. Alfred picked the note up and began to read.

_Alfred,_

_By the time you read this, you're probably on a cab ride to a town beyond three large cities. I know you're wondering why you're here on this fucking cab ride to another place. I can explain._

_If you're wondering about the money, it's untouched, still in your mailbox in a snug white envelope. I'm not touching it, and I never will. I have my own._

_If you're wondering about the bar, it's wrecked and looks like crap, literally. You smashed the place after I stopped you from drinking another shot of Russia's water. Yes, Alfred, __you__ destroyed it._

_I haven't told you this, thinking that you'd get better, but I was wrong. Often, when we're hanging out at a new place or in my crib, you begin to become a creepy jackass, and then when someone flips you off or deny you some sort of service or object, you lapse into a psychotic rage and trash everything you can see. You harass my babes and sometimes, me. It's like you're different, and sometimes I wondered if it was really you and not some crazed serial killer wrestler that looks like you. Even when it's a normal day, you show some signs of this. This is why I seem to drift away from you; I'm afraid of that happening again, and I'm scared for you too. You're like a brother to me, and I know you feel the same way. But after what happened to the bar… well…_

_I then decided to bring you, and some stuff, to the Madhouse – a mental facility. Don't worry; you're only gonna be in there more or less a week – only a day to you and me. I'm hoping you get better, so we can have some more good times together. It hurts me more than it hurts you, but it's for the best._

_Don't worry; I'll be your friend and brother forever, even when we're far apart._

_Timothy Johnson_

_P.S. I have some painkillers in there for your headache. Consider it a parting gift or somethin' like that._

"Then I arrived here." Alfred said, "The Madhouse."

An update! A double update!

Well, I had a lot of free-time to write this too, and ideas were flowing in. Besides I've already kept this story hanging for a _long _time. And there are other reasons for this late update too, stated in the last chapter. I also realized that I named this chapter for explaining my absence from this story, I didn't know.

This is an apology chapter for my lateness.

Still apologizing,

JustAnotherWriter


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